


Push

by JudeAraya



Series: Push [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, First Times, M/M, Older Kurt, Rimming, innocence kink, light dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite a 12 year age difference, neither Kurt nor Blaine can deny just how much they want each other. Blaine might only be 16, but he knows what he wants -- and what he wants is for Kurt to push him just a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push

**Author's Note:**

> I love age!difference fic, I won't lie. I had a hankering for something a bit edgier, and so here we are. Please be warned, Blaine is 16 and Kurt is 28, and even though they have a safe word, this story definitely walks a light dub-con line considering his age. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me before reading.
> 
> Big thanks to my beta gingerandfair!

“I’m thinking I’ll apply to Tisch, Columbia and NYADA. At least one of them has to take me right?”

“Definitely.” Tina smiles at him, busy wiping foamed milk and coffee grounds off of the counter. “But you don’t have to decide now, you know? You’re just a junior.”

“Like you don’t already have plans, and you’re only a sophomore,” Blaine teases back, “Besides, it’s never too soon, I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“I know.” Her hand is kind of damp from the rag when she puts it on his arm, and he makes a face. The front bell tinkles. “Not it.” She laughs, flouncing away from the register. He sticks his tongue out at her retreating back and turns toward the register to greet their customer and almost falls over at the sight of the most _gorgeous_ man he has ever seen. Blaine swallows. Feels his whole body, his skin and muscles and blood, suddenly prickle to attention.

He swallows again, takes a slow, calming breath, then plasters on a smile.

“Hi, welcome to the Lima Bean.”

~*~

Kurt smiles back automatically, charmed by the slick haired, bright eyed welcoming boy behind the counter.

“Just a Cafe Americano.” Kurt orders. _He’s cute_ , he thinks.

 _Oh hell no_ , his brain kicks in not even a second later. Kurt stalls for a second, tries to keep his eyes from flickering over this boy's exposed and youthfully muscled forearms. “And can I get some biscotti too?”

Blaine, his name tag reads. Wonderful name. Blaine has incredible skin, honey tan and smooth-

 _Stop it_ , he orders himself. _He’s just a kid._

“Sure.” Blaine’s eyes are an unusual hazel, Kurt notices. He wonders if they are like his, temperamental and mutable. He’s trying not to notice too much, but he can’t help but see the blatant stare, the way this boy’s eyes are drinking him in. “Name?”

“Um,” Kurt resists the urge to shake his head in a sad attempt to clear it. _A kid, a kid, a kid._

“Your name,” Blaine prompts with a small arched smile that’s sweet flirtation. He holds up a cup. “So we can call for you.”

“Oh yes.” He resists the urge to smile back. Blaine is plainly interested; it’s all over his hectic flushed cheeks and pink nibbled lip. “Kurt.”

“Hi Kurt.” Christ _his_ voice, breathlessly saying his name, slides pleasure warm under Kurt’s skin.

God he needs to get out of here. “It’s nice to meet you.” Kurt tries to give him a passably neutral smile. He moves on towards the end counter without a backward glance.

~*~

“Oh my god Blaine.” Tina hisses as soon as the man -- Kurt -- disappears through the glass door.

“Shut up.” Blaine can feel his cheeks flame hot.

“Blaine’s got a cru-ush,” she sings teasingly.

“Shut up,” he moans, thunking his head against the tall counter.

“I never knew you had a thing for older men.”

His whole _body_ burns with mortification. Blaine doesn’t even bother with telling her to shut up this time, but turns to lock himself in the walk-in cooler. Maybe if he freezes himself to death, he’ll never have to face the mortification of how obvious he’d just been. And he’ll cool off enough to get his rampaging hormones under control.

~*~

It’s one thing to flirt with a kid who must be twice as young as he. Even maybe reciprocate flirtation and interest, or warm to unpracticed flirtation. Not that he had, Kurt rationalizes. Appreciating -- letting himself be flattered by -- are not the same thing as flirting back.

It might be one thing to flirt back (which he hadn’t done) but it’s another entirely to stretch out in his bed, desperately pulling on his cock and breathing hard, picturing that boy -- _Blaine_ \-- working him over with innocent deliberation.

Kurt’s long past the days when fantasy felt threatening. He knows it’s just a fantasy. Fantasy won’t do anyone harm. And in this case, it brings him over the edge of a furious orgasm that leaves him wreck-sated in the near dark of his room.

 _Just fantasy_ , he tells himself, steeped in a slight shame even he can’t rationalize himself out of.

~*~

“Kurt!” Blaine calls happily.

“Good morning Blaine.” Kurt is proud of how calmly he responds, no matter how much he wants to return the dazzled smile. Blaine’s right hand is on the counter, fingers splayed a little, neat nails and warm skin. He feels a little dizzy. Remembers fucking himself into his own fist, pretending it was Blaine’s. He clears his throat.

“The same?” Blaine is already writing his name on a cup.

“You know my coffee order?”

“Of course I do.” Blaine winks. It’s wildly endearing.

He’s also doing it again, that breathless inventory that’s not at all self conscious. Or maybe he doesn’t even know how obvious he’s being. Kurt wonders if this boy doesn’t have anyone else, anyone his age to look at this way. And why? He’s beautiful, small bodied but obviously fit.

“Why don’t you go ahead and sit?” Blaine offers. “We’re slow, I can bring it to you.”

“That would be great.” Kurt shifts his bag, laptop and binder heavy feel safe. Grounding, centering him when all he wants to let himself spin and spin into it, give in and reach over. Smooth the pad of his index finger over the ridges of Blaine’s knuckles.

~*~

“You are so obvious.” Tina barely waits until Kurt’s left this time.

“So?” Blaine lets himself be bumped aside. He’s decided he doesn’t care, not anymore. Not the way Kurt’s eyes had lit on him, too warm. Appreciative. Even if it’s all in his head, Blaine doesn’t care.

He looks over, catches Tina’s sympathetic glance.

“What? It’s not like anything is going to happen. He’s hot.” Blaine whispers, tucks the venti cups more neatly together.

“So what, you’re just going to practice your flirting skills?”

“Why not?” He smiles at her easily.

~*~

The fourth time he comes it’s busier and Kurt takes a chance, watches Blaine instead of his computer screen. The smile he offers each customer, the easy way he moves behind the counter. The light touches he gives the sweetly pretty Asian girl who works with him. Kurt sighs. It’s a good thing Kurt is so practiced in controlling his emotions, or he’d be in so much trouble.

~*~

“Who was that?” Rachel sidles over, leans forward to watch Kurt retreat to the end of the counter.

“Just a customer.” Blaine makes change for his own customer easily, guages the line. Almost through the rush.

“Awfully flirty for ‘just a customer’,” Rachel teases. “Very good looking in a ‘mysterious older man’ kind of way.”

He shoots her a smile, lets himself hold onto the pleasant buzz he always gets when he sees Kurt. It’s all he can indulge in now.

Of course, Blaine’s barely through his bedroom door before he’s pushing his pants down gracelessly, realizing that he’s got more to indulge in than just flirtation. He thumps onto his bed, already grinding into his dry fist. He’s been half hard since he’d watched Kurt’s ass, beautifully cupped and so delicious in tight red pants, breeze out of the shop.

It’s the image of those pants that does it. Blaine comes so fast, he can hardly catch his breath.

~*~

He knows Blaine well now, in a distant way. Looks forward to the familiar exchange when he orders. The tentative way Blaine lingers when bringing him coffee. Tells that give everything away. Blaine’s hand twitching toward him, the slight increase in his breath.

Kurt’s not been with many men, but he’s been with men long enough to read the interest clearly there. Blaine’s young enough to be obviously smitten. Kurt’s old enough to know he shouldn’t want what he desires so much. No matter how much he tells himself he shouldn’t though, Kurt still does.

So he flirts, even though he’s old enough to know better. To know he should cut off what can’t go anywhere. To know he needs to rein in his own growing desire.

So, yes, he knows he should stop, but he still doesn’t.

~*~

It’s hard to be happy about anything, sometimes. Blaine isn’t even sure why, other than that pervasive feeling of being _alone_. Which is dumb, he tells himself. He has friends. He has New Directions and all the remaining Warblers he’s managed to hold onto friendships with; Blaine doesn’t even let himself think of the others he hadn’t.

He has a family -- even a distant and slightly cold family is better than nothing. Blaine’s isn’t so juvenile that he doesn’t realize how much worse his home life could be, even if it leaves him feeling desperately lonely sometimes.

And it’s not always even that. It’s _dumb_ , he knows, to feel so lonely in a sea of held hands and traded kisses everywhere he turns in the hallways at McKinley. Even if he had someone to hold hands with, it’s not like he would. Not when he never knows if he’ll be safe from locker checks and dumpster dives. Which days it might be safe to risk a favourite bowtie or his whimsical lobster cardigan. Well, to be honest, that one might not ever be a good choice, not unless he wants to guarantee that he’ll be called a homo several times that day and maybe get trapped inside a port-a-john again.

Blaine still wishes he lived in a world where he could.

He tries not to be bitter that he gets so few choices in this world. He didn’t choose to be gay. He didn’t choose to be gay in Ohio. He would never choose to be alone like this.

The bowties, the flood pants, even the cardigan -- they’re all defiant choices. Maybe they make things worse, but in months like this, with the promise of a lonely summer weight heavy, he can’t bring himself to care.

Tina laughs sympathetically when his eyes follow Kurt with longing every day, but he can’t help it.

Sometimes Blaine wants so much, so deeply, it hurts.

And _god_ does he want Kurt. He wants the tender romance; held hands and romantic dinners. But even more he wants that dark little thrill. Takes so much pleasure in the fantasy of giving himself, of letting himself be taken. Because letting is a choice.

He wants Kurt so much sometimes even his teeth ache and everything feels too tight and too close and he can’t help but picture Kurt’s hands pushing him down, holding him fast and burning him inside out with a tender ferocity.

Kurt wouldn’t take, Blaine knows, until given permission. Kurt could be a delicious choice, a defiant one and yeah, probably more than he can handle.

Blaine Anderson was born to give -- a sad irony in a world that insists on taking. Blaine _wants_ to give, but no one really cares what he wants. They take indiscriminately until sometimes, Blaine is sure he doesn’t have anything left.

Kurt makes him feel, sometimes, like he still has. Even if all it is is the desire to be fucked senseless by someone who would know so well just how to do it. It’s a silly fantasy, but it’s his.

~*~

May is a bad month for Blaine. He smiles less, dimmed curved lips for the customers. He wears his shoulders differently, seems smaller in his own body. His hair, usually slicked back ruthlessly, is carelessly gelled, small curls waving around his temples.

Kurt wants, badly, to wrap his fingers around those curls, to smooth a hand over those toned shoulders. To kiss tension away, down the dip of his back and over his collarbone.

Kurt wants and wants, writhes against his own hand and onto his toys and comes hard and harder and harder still in the shower, on his sheets, all over his own chest. He wants so badly that it hurts, wants to fuck him and to hold him and make him smile and beg so prettily like Kurt is sure he would.

~*~

“Here you go.” Blaine sets his cup down carefully. He’s muted. No bowtie decorating his standard issue polo. It’s painfully slow in the shop, Tina’s humming behind the counter the only sound. Kurt loves best when she and Blaine sing together. Blaine has a voice with an intangible but incredibly special edge to it.

“Blaine.” Kurt can’t, can’t let this boy go another minute like this, “Sit?”

“Y-yeah?” Blaine hesitates, then pulls the opposite chair out. It screeches loud against the tiled floor, causing Tina to pop her head up over the high counter. He smiles benignly at her, then turns to Blaine who is fiddling with a sugar packet. He won’t look up to meet Kurt’s eyes.

“Want to talk?”

“You don’t even know me,” Blaine whispers.

“Do you have someone to talk to? About whatever is going on?”

Blaine shakes his head. “No one even notices.” He says it plainly. “They don’t notice _me._ ”

“I notice.” Kurt takes a chance, uses his palm to still Blaine’s fingers before he tears the packet.

“You can’t stop them though, can you?” Blaine blinks his too bright shining eyes.

“Stop who?” Kurt holds his breath, jostles Blaine’s hand a little urgently.

“It’s nothing awful, don’t worry. It’s -- school. They push me and call me names...and, I- I just--”

“Take a breath. Look at me please.” Blaine looks away, uses the fingers of his other hand to trace the undercusp of his eyes. “I see you. I know what it’s like. You can always talk to me.” Because he remembers; remembers that feeling of being completely alone, even in a sea of friends. Because no one else understood, really, what it was like.

“Thank you.” Blaine takes a few shuddering breaths. Closes his eyes and visibly composes himself. When he finally turns to look at Kurt, it’s different. His lashes -- they’re criminal, dark and lush and _fuck_ he knows how to use them. Knows how to look up just so with wide and hot eyes. “Does that mean you’ll give me your number, finally?”

“Finally?” Kurt slides his hand away, wills the heat to wash out of his body when it crawls through.

“Just to talk?” Blaine asks like they’d not moved on. His eyes are bright; bright and hot like everything inside Kurt is.

“Blaine--” He tries to sound warning, but sounds almost weak.

“You’re not blind.” Blaine leans forward, forearms flat on the table. “You know I’m interested.”

“Blaine, I think- I mean you obviously need a friend. A mentor even.”

He’s never in his life seen bedroom eyes like Blaine uses on him then.

“So give me your number and I’ll let you _mentor_ me.”

“Blaine--” Kurt shakes his head a little, steels himself against almost insurmountable temptation.

“How old are you Kurt?” Blaine’s finger traces softly over the table, close to Kurt’s hand. He thinks of that finger, crawling up his skin, hip to ribs, followed by his young and untrained mouth.

“Too old for you,” is all he says, then looks away.

~*~

“Okay, no but really,” Kurt startles at the sound of Blaine’s voice, dropping the pen he’d been sketching with.

“But really what?” Blaine watches Kurt pull himself up tall and catches his breath, wonders if Kurt can possibly know how much he fucking loves that. The way it feels, the way his body knows Kurt is bigger, just a little. Big enough to cover and hold him down. Knows it would be just right, perfect and hot and wanton, to wrapped in that long, warm body.

“How old are you?

“Don’t you know that’s not a polite question?” Kurt flips back, carefully closing the sketchbook Blaine’s been dying to get a look inside of for weeks.

“You can’t be more than like 23? 24? Not old enough to be too much.”

Blaine can see plainly the way flattery flushes through Kurt, pinking his skin. Kurt’s eyes are sea hazy when he looks up and licks his lips. Suddenly Blaine doesn’t just feel aware and almost crazy with desire for this man, but sexy for him as well. Like he’s been made to be watched like this, to feel like prey and wanted plainly.

“You’ve made my day with that,” Kurt acknowledges. “I’m 28 actually. Going on 29, tragically, in a few months.”

There’s a moment, a moment in which Blaine stares and tries to keep his face neutral even when his whole body stands to attention because he’s so fucking turned on. Kurt’s trying to discourage him, he’s been trying all along to keep this platonic, but it’s so silly. Silly for him to think that would turn Blaine away.

“I know- I.” Kurt bites his lip, embarrassment all over his face, “I told you I’m too old.”

“No, no.” Blaine’s fingers are clenched. “Kurt it’s-- it’s hot. Really hot.” Now that he knows, he sees it more clearly, Kurt’s clear maturity, his skin impeccably young and tempting, but lived in in a way Blaine can’t even describe.

“Is that what you like then?” _Oh god, that’s it,_ Blaine thinks, _he’s given in_. There’s something, something heavy and blistering between them and they’ve both known all along, even when Kurt’s pretended not to. “Older men?”

Blaine shrugs a little bashfully, plays the part, watches Kurt’s eyes train on his lips. Looks down at Kurt and tries for beguiling but innocent and it makes something dark curl with arousal low in his belly, knowing that this is what they both want. “So?”

They stare at each other for a few beats. It’s open appraisal on both sides.

“You should-” Kurt shudders in a breath, “you should get back to work.”

“Here.” Blaine reaches for Kurt’s phone, swipes past the welcome screen. “My number.”

“Oh--” Kurt holds his hand out even as Blaine wonders if he’ll ever have the courage to call.

Blaine keeps his phone for a minute, fiddles with it until Kurt hears a faint chime. “I texted myself. Now I have your number and you have mine.”

He slides the phone across. “You’ll call me.” Blaine says with put on bravado. “When you’re ready. Because Kurt.” Blaine swallows, breathless and brave, “I am.”

~*~

“I want to take you on a date.” Kurt doesn’t bother with preliminaries. It’s been a week since Blaine had carefully stored his number on Kurt’s phone. One week of laying in bed at night trying to figure out just what he really wanted to do.

“A date?” Blaine squeaks. It’s so fucking appealing.

“A date. I want to be clear- I’m not going to use you or hurt you. I like you.”

“Oh wow--” Blaine is quiet for a minute. “I like you too.” Back to bashful school boy, he sees. Kurt can imagine what it must be like for Blaine, 16 and unpracticed, the giddy excitement he’s feeling. He’d felt it once, himself, when he’d gone to New York, met a boy there. But it would have been nice, stranded in this dessert, to have that sort of affirmation to wrap and treasure in, at Blaine’s age.

“So, dinner.” He’s all business he knows, but he’s not got another choice. He’s powering through a decision the clearest parts of his brain know is recklessly wrong. Kurt pushes against that bubble of sanity and logic.

“Where?”

“I was thinking Luigi’s.”

“Good choice. Not in town.”

“Is that alright with you?” Kurt can’t let himself imagine doing this in clear view of their neighbors.

“Absolutely. This is unconventional to say the least.” Blaine laughs. It’s good though, for Kurt. To know Blaine understands the ramifications, even if it’s not the way that Kurt does. He knows about fantasy, how he must be a heady one to Blaine. Kurt’s had his share of fantasies about older, unattainable men. He can’t say he wouldn’t have gone through with it, had reciprocity been offered. Perspective changes with age though. He knows how dangerous this territory is, and it’s become painfully clear that he’s more than attainable to this boy.

But when he thinks of it, of sinking his tongue into Blaine’s giving mouth, of touching his hips and pulling him close, he doesn’t care. He thinks of being the only one, the first to do these things to Blaine. For Blaine.

Screw danger because yes. Yes, yes, he’ll let himself.

“Saturday. Seven?”

“That works for me.” He can hear the clearly contained excitement in Blaine’s voice. “I’ll meet you there. “It-” Blaine pauses, continues in a sort of soft confession, “it will be my first date.”

Kurt feels one pang, that he can’t pick Blaine up and make it a proper first date like he deserves. “I’m honored,” is all he says.

~*~

Blaine dresses with painful care. Spends long minutes in the shower, grooming every part of his body, just in case. Shaves with deliberation and tries to will himself to calm down, even when he knows his excitement is something Kurt wants. He’s not lying when he acts his age with Kurt, but he’s not going to pretend that he doesn’t use it sometimes. Not when using it means getting to watch Kurt’s eyes darken, getting to hear how minutely his voice shakes, making Blaine wonder if that’s what he sounds like when he fucks, if that’s what he’ll sound like when he finally takes him.

Yeah, calming down. Something he definitely needs to do.

~*~

It’s cold when they leave the restaurant -- maybe not as cold as it feels, shocking the glow of two hours spent in comfort and engrossed in conversation with Blaine straight away. Kurt shivers, pulls the lapels of his coat closed. Of course he’d wear a scarf for show ( _it brings out the green in my eyes though_ ) and not practicality.

Kurt’s never been one for practicality over show with much of anything anyway.

“I guess--” Blaine moves a bit closer as they stand by their cars, shakes into the burst of wind. He looks up at Kurt, face wide open with hope.

“Blaine,” Kurt takes his hand, bumps their useless, gloved fingers together, “have you ever even been kissed?” He says it like a secret, hushed against Blaine’s temple. This boy, oh he smells sweet and new. It makes him _hungry._

“No,” Blaine breathes, air furling which hushed with confession.

“Hmm.” Kurt kisses that temple, the so fragile thin bone under warm skin. “They should all be special.” He breathes as close as he can to Blaine’s ear. Their threaded fingers tighten in tandem.

“They?”

“Every first you’ll give me.” _Every first_ , he thinks. “Let’s leave this to your first date and worry about the next another time." He laughs when Blaine pulls back to pout. Feels as young and besotted as Blaine looks. “Goodnight Blaine.” He nudges Blaine into a hug before stepping away, letting the cold between their separated bodies slam into him.

~*~

Kurt does it when Blaine’s not expecting it, turns him neatly from his own sink with a soapy sponge still gripped in his hand. Takes and takes the breath from his surprised open mouth and it’s delicious, the way Kurt moans a little when Blaine shivers until he’s absolutely melting into Kurt.

It’s their third date, a comfortable dinner at his home, and when Kurt had asked him to come Blaine had been so breathless with hope and excitement he’d hardly been able to speak. The food had been delicious but forgettable under the heat of banked longing in every word between them.

Kurt’s home is wonderful, plush and flawlessly decorated. He wonders how obvious it is, his envy. He doesn’t understand what it means to live on your own. Here, in the middle of Kurt’s things and the clear evidence of his adult and responsible life, Blaine is tenderly exposed, youth glaringly obvious.

“I don’t know how to cook,” he admits when Kurt asks him to come help with dinner. Kurt’s laugh is fond and it’s plain that he is getting a kick from walking him through the steps of preparing their meal. Blaine tingles, letting Kurt instruct him, when Kurt’s warm body comes so close to him in the small kitchen, smelling like sin and so mouthwatering he has to take deep, calming breaths just to keep himself together.

Blaine’s hands are wet and soapy and he’s so caught by surprise he can’t even take the time to think through his response, chasing Kurt’s lips when he starts to pull away.

~*~

Blaine hastes into their second kiss, opens so quickly, eager and rushing his tongue into Kurt’s mouth and it’s imperfect and wet and Kurt thinks, _oh I get to teach him everything,_ and then he’s shivering into it too.

“Breathe.” He pulls back just a little, eyes watchful on Blaine’s. Kurt runs his thumb over Blaine’s trembling lips, once carefully, then with more pressure. “It’s not a race,” he instructs tenderly, brushing his mouth teasingly over Blaine’s cheek. “Savor it,” he whispers hot in Blaine’s ear. Triumph, dark splendid thing, zaps electric through his muscles.

Blaine nods; oh perfect, perfect student. Kurt’s thumb pulls that sweet lower lip from between his teeth before he comes in for another kiss, less gentle, just shy of ravenous.

~*~

“I like when we stay in,” Blaine whimpers out, breath hitching while he lets Kurt’s mouth explore his neck.

“Because of this?”

“It feels like all I do is want you.” He says it like it’s wrong. Blaine’s gotten himself off so many times since their last date he’s almost raw.

“Mmm,” Kurt smiles against Blaine’s collarbone, makes a small noise of sympathy. “Teenagers.” He says with a long suffering sigh that is as put on as his eyeroll. It’s adorable and Blaine is so fucking endeared and turned on.

“No but really,” Kurt kisses him lightly, “what’s wrong with that?”

Blaine’s hands are sure when he pushes Kurt away a bit until he’s hovering just over him. “I don’t just want this though.” Kurt’s hips push into his against the rich tan of his couch. Blaine lies boneless and trusting, heart pounding so, so loudly. “I want all of it.”

The conversation, the laughter. Someone to listen to him and be there.

“I know,” Kurt hushes him, fingers pressing with tiny pressure against Blaine’s chest. “I like that part too. It’s not just this.”

Blaine watches him for a moment before opening his lips and flicking his tongue to wet his them. Kurt moans. “You’re killing me.” And god, Blaine gets off so hard on that, knowing that his innocence teases Kurt until he’s so hot for him he forgets to be careful.

~*~

It’s not warm in the shelter between their parked cars, but it’s not as cold as it has been. Blaine’s passenger door is open, takeout container of leftovers on the seat. Kurt kisses him a little rough, dirtier than he’s let himself before. It’s safer to let this hunger out when they aren’t in his apartment, when he can’t just press and press himself into Blaine’s body without stopping.

“Oh god.” He pulls away, holds Blaine steady with an arm around his waist when Blaine sags against the side of his car. They both breathe heavy and against his leg Blaine is obviously hard. So much of him wants to push. Knows that if he pushed enough, Blaine would give. Sweet boy, so eager to please and be touched. And yes, in dark ways he doesn’t understand, he wants to pressure him. But he won’t; he cares too much. Knows already how much Blaine needs care. It’s a little frightening, how much care Kurt has to give him, so soon with so much standing between them. “Too much?”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head, presses his erection harder against Kurt. “No no, _more._ ”

 _Oh god, the begging._ “Not here sweetheart.” Kurt cups the back of Blaine’s head, tucks it into his shoulder. “I don’t want to push you.” He almost means it. Means it with his heart but not his body, his traitorous body that wants it all, begs to care for Blaine while fucking that innocence right out of him.

“I do.” Blaine lets his teeth onto the lobe of his ear. It’s not something Kurt had ever liked before, but there is something about Blaine; the way he’s so new he responds to almost anything, that makes Kurt feel it too. “Push me, Kurt. Oh I want you so bad. I want you to push me and teach me and _make_ me.”

“Blaine,” his voice is weak in protest. He tries to pretend he doesn’t want that so badly.

“You know we both want it like that.” Blaine looks at Kurt straight on. “I trust you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Kurt manages.

“I think we left should behind a while ago.” Blaine tries to hide his smile, bites it between his teeth. “I don’t care about should Kurt.” Kurt shudders against Blaine this time, cups his waist through his coat when Blaine rocks onto his toes to look into his eyes. “I care about _want_. And I know you do too.”

Kurt swallows and closes his eyes.

~*~

“Don’t be scared.” It’s Blaine who wears confidence here now, kneeling next to Kurt on his sofa, nosing into his neck. He’s been thinking of how to say this for days. How to give Kurt explicit consent to take whatever he wants. How to finally make this happen before he _dies_. “I’ll say stop.”

“Stop?” Kurt closes his eyes.

“Nothing else counts though.”

Kurt moans and turns into a kiss, manhandles Blaine until he’s straddling Kurt’s lap.

“Only stop?”

“Only stop.”

~*~

“Not tonight though.” Kurt eases away with a sigh, minutes of desperate kisses later.

“What? Why?” Blaine asks with naked desperation, kissing at Kurt’s neck like he’ll never get enough.

“Because you have curfew and--” Kurt whines when Blaine resorts to biting, practically crawling over him while they both tremble. He swallows, eases his hands over Blaine’s hips even when he’s reminding himself why they have to stop. In his hands, Blaine’s ass is firm and high and round. “I want you to stay. Next time. If you can.”

“Next time?” Blaine eases away. They are both trembling, breathing hard and it’s the first time in a while that Kurt’s been _this_ turned on. Dangerously, recklessly turned on. It would be easy now, to just take Blaine, to push him back and mount and rock and rub all over him.

“I told you I didn’t want to rush you--” Kurt runs fastidious hands over Blaine’s rucked shirt, smoothing it gently.

“But I said- I just--”

“Shhh.” Kurt takes his time, kisses him thoughtfully, “I want to take my time too, hmm? Make sure to touch you...” He trails his fingers up Blaine’s shuddering spine, eyes hot on Blaine’s. “Everywhere.”

“O-okay.” Blaine exhales into the next kiss, relaxes into him easily. So much trust, what Blaine gives.

~*~

  
Blaine gets Trent to cover for him, not just because Trent is so wholesome his parents would never question him, but also because Trent is the one who’d ask the fewest question.

He hadn’t thought he’d be nervous, not with how badly he’s been wanting it. The way he’s practically begged Kurt for this. But Blaine’s had a long week to think about this, to anticipate and work himself up and start to flounder under the weight of so many insecurities he hadn’t seen coming.

Whether it’s uncertainty or fear or nerves, Blaine knows that nothing would weight heavy enough to pause his actions even for a moment.

~*~

“Lay back sweetheart.” Kurt climbs up onto the bed, swings a careful leg over Blaine’s body. “Good.” He uses his hands to smooth from Blaine’s shoulders to his waist.

“What should I- should I do something?” Blaine shifts a little, eyes darting nervously away while Kurt flips the buttons of his cardigan open, one after another in a slow progression up toward his neck.

“Don’t worry.” Kurt bites lightly at Blane’s nipple, over his shirt. Breathes in his clean smell when Blaine gasps. “I’ll tell you what to do. Right now, I just want you to relax, okay?

Kurt waits until Blaine nods then sits back on his calves, carefully distributing his weight over Blaine's thighs. Blaine asked him for this; gave him this, permission to let that hunger take. Doing this, Blaine knows, is giving on both sides. Letting themselves have it. The fact that it still feels a little wrong makes it feel even more _right_ , even better.

“Take off your shirt.” He wants to watch.

Blaine’s stomach is mouthwatering, toned and young, firm. His nipples are perfectly small, tempting Kurt’s thumbs over them in tight circles.

“Good. Beautiful.” He makes sure to praise. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” Blaine’s eyes are wide open unquestioning. His hands cover Kurt’s, just for a moment, before they slide up to his shoulders.

“Would you- can I ask?” He tugs at the fabric of Kurt’s shirt.

“You can always ask Blaine. I want you to ask for whatever you want.” Kurt guides Blaine’s hands toward the hem of his shirt. “Take it off of me, please.”

It’s like Blaine’s never seen anything like this, his eyes are so intent on Kurt’s body. He’s long past the days of shy insecurity and so Kurt smiles and knows how much pleasure they can bring each other.

“Have you ever been with a boy like this Blaine?” Kurt knows the answer, but he likes asking anyway. Like highlighting just what they’re doing.

“N-no, Kurt.” Blaine’s hands flutter a little.

“It’s okay sweetheart, you can touch me. I want you to touch me.” Kurt purrs into Blaine’s touch. It’s hesitant and Blaine’s starts and stops with uncertainty. He keeps quiet, lets Blaine explore. “Wonderful.” He breathes out when Blaine’s fingers sweep over his nipples. Blaine’s hips twitch a little in response. God he must be _aching_ , desperate and on edge, Kurt knows. Knows because he remembers being 16, remembers hair trigger orgasms (even if he was by himself for all of those) and how overwhelming it felt sometimes, being so turned on.

“Kurt--” Blaine blushes when his hips rise involuntarily again.

“Anything,” Kurt let’s himself rock forward a little, gives Blaine some friction. Smiles when Blaine cries out.

“Ki-kiss me.” Blaine’s eyes are half open and almost scared and _fuck_ , Kurt has to close his own and bite down hard when his own cock jumps. “Please?”

“Yes,” he leans down, moves his body so that he’s firm and rolling against Blaine’s hard dick. Mouths at Blaine’s open panting lips. He’s got Kurt’s waist in a grip so tight it grazes the edge of hurting. “I’m here beautiful. It’s okay.” Kurt can feel it, feel the tight coiled _almost there_ of Blaine’s whole body trying so hard not to come and so he grinds down harder, grinds and then Blaine is crying, young skinned neck exposed for Kurt’s not gentle kisses and nips.

Kurt watches him all through it, drinks in the sight of Blaine’s first orgasm with another person, glutting himself on it, delicacy that it is. Rolls off of Blaine while he’s still trembling down. He doesn’t go far, just far enough to give Blaine room to breathe, running his hand through Blaine’s damp hair, breaking up the gel. He palms Blaine’s cheek and shoulder and rests his fingers on his deliciously young stomach and resolutely ignores his own dick.

“I’m sorry.” Blaine whispers.

“Mmm.” Kurt nudges Blaine’s cheek with his nose before kissing him. “What for?”

“I haven’t- I mean you--” He turns over, pillows his cheek on Kurt’s arm. Reaches shyly towards Kurt’s zipper.

“No.”

Blaine’s face falls and Kurt has to hide a smile.

“I just mean not yet,” he instructs gently. “Don’t worry Blaine, we’re not done yet.”

There’s a moment then, a moment when he sees how much older Blaine is than his age. A surety that flickers in his eyes. But it’s there then gone and replaced by the sort of concentrated look of happiness only the young can harness.

“Yeah?” Blaine sneaks in for a kiss, and laughing, Kurt lets him. Lets Blaine roll him onto his back.

They kiss and Kurt encourages Blaine to touch as he wants. Blaine’s fingers are hot and a little damp as they drag over his skin. “That feels good.” He makes sure to tell Blaine everything he likes.

Kurt wallows in it, thrilled to know that his body is subject to Blaine’s education in sex.

He doesn’t miss the wince of discomfort when Blaine moves to kiss down his chest.

“Uncomfortable?” He laughs lightly; he’d almost forgotten that Blaine had come in his pants. Blaine’s cheeks heat. “That’s okay, we can get you cleaned up.”

“We?” Blaine sits up.

“Yeah,” Kurt rolls to the edge of the bed, takes in the line of Blaine’s shoulders. He’s uncomfortable. This is a moment, he realizes. Where he can let Blaine be, show him where the bathroom is and walk away.

 _Push_ , Blaine had whispered in his ear.

“Yeah,” Kurt drops back down, walks on his knees until he reaches Blaine. “Don’t you want that? Want me to see that beautiful body of yours? Touch you and help clean you up?”

“I don’t- can’t I just come back?” Blaine’s eyes plead with him a little. He wasn’t expecting this. But Kurt doesn’t stop, bites Blaine’s shoulder and then maneuvers him out of bed. It wouldn’t be pushing if it was always what Blaine wanted.

“Up.” He takes Blaine’s hand, leads him to the bathroom and props him against the sink.

 

~*~

And suddenly it’s here, a moment when he knows Kurt can see that he’s almost said it. When they both know it’s at the tip of his tongue.

 _Stop_.

But he doesn’t say it. Instead Blaine takes a deep breath and stills, watches Kurt’s hands flip his belt open confidently. How many men has Kurt been with? How many lovers does it take to learn this sort of confidence? There is nothing about his demeanor that suggests any hesitation. Not like his own. He feels exposed and unsure, suddenly so conscious of his body and the inherent intimacy of this act. He takes a deep breath and tries to tamp down insecurity.

“Brave.” Kurt’s not assuring, but challenging him. Blaine’s resolve fires through him and his head swims with it.

“I’ll try.” Blaine’s lips tremble a bit.

“You’re doing great.” Kurt crowds him further, eases Blaine’s pants and underwear down. Keeps his eyes on Blaine while he reaches blindly for a hand towel. He meets Blaine’s mouth in a deep kiss. “Relax honey.” Kurt wets the towel, then pulls back to stare into his eyes; Blaine is sure they betray his nerves. “Let me take care of you.”

So much easy assurance; Blaine whimpers a little, feels his whole body respond. Kurt controls this situation with so much aplomb, and all he has to do, he knows, is to let go and trust him. “What about you?” Blaine manages to get out, closing his eyes when Kurt pulls back.

“Don’t worry.” Kurt trails his fingers over Blaine’s lower belly. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

~*~

Blaine’s body is beautiful. Tight and small and still a little unfinished. He’ll grow yet; if not taller, at least into his bones and skin. Kurt remembers that; remembers thinking he’d been done growing but then how his body had seemed to stretch into an old skin with a new maturity he’d not been expecting.

Blaine is alluring and boyish and trembling when Kurt begins to clean him carefully. His gorgeous cock, darker than the rest of his skin, starts to lengthen while Kurt touches him. Thoughtfully, Kurt drops the towel and traces pattern over it. Blaine whimpers when Kurt’s fingers find his balls, shies away.

“It’s okay.” Kurt nudges the inside of Blaine’s thigh with his knee, wraps an arm around his tiny waist and lifts him onto the counter.

“Kurt!” Blaine’s hand shoots out to balance himself on the countertop. Kurt just smiles, pushes his way between Blaine’s knees. Traces his fingers up Blaine’s thighs. His legs are hairy; more so than Kurt's, with dark hair that climbs up toward his beautiful cock, leaving only the tops and insides smooth. Kurt runs his thumbs into the shallow bowl made where his thighs meet pelvis. Blaine twitches away and so Kurt steadies him with a hard grip around his hip.

“You’re staring.” Blaine shifts.

“Of course I am,” Kurt laughs, mouth dry. He wants to lick everywhere his fingers graze. _Well_ , he reasons, _no time like the present._

~*~

Blaine’s breath, shocked and loud, rips through the bathroom along with the sound of his hand slapping against the wall for support. Kurt doesn’t pause, just presses his mouth harder, sucks the space just behind his balls and fuck he had _no. idea._ It feels so good. Why does that feel so good?

“Oh my god, _Kurt_.”

Kurt smiles, kisses his way up Blaine’s penis with an open mouth.

“No, no, wait.” Blaine is straining; Kurt knows it’s with the effort not to curl into his mouth.

“I don’t want to wait,” Kurt explores the head with his tongue, sounds almost petulant.

“What--” Blaine is panting. _Panting_. He’d be embarrassed by it but he can’t even think beyond Kurt’s mouth on him like this. Kurt’s barely touched him and already he’s biting back the rush of heat in his belly and pelvis. “What about you? I want- _ohmygod._ ” Blaine groans once, too loudly, then falls silent to watch Kurt sink his mouth down over him. Inside Kurt’s mouth he’s hot and throbbing and _holy shit_ Kurt’s got him all the way in, deep in his mouth and throat and sucking. Kurt pulls back slowly, breathing deeply and evenly as he pulls off while Blaine shakes apart under his touch.

“Don’t worry about me.” He uses his hands to spread Blaine wider. “I’ll show you what to do.” He looks up at Blaine. “How to make me feel good.”

He takes Blaine’s balls into his mouth, one by one, before using his thumb to lift them. Sucks another hard kiss over Blaine’s perineum which leaves Blaine arching and calling his name in a broken mantra.

“Kurt,” Blaine’s thigh tighten as if trying to close, panicking a little when Kurt’s tongue flickers down. “I- I don’t think I’m ready for-”

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Kurt gentles his hand over Blaine’s knee, “doesn’t it feel so good?” He bites Blaine’s tender thigh.“I promise I’ll make it feel so good.”

“But-” Blaine interrupts his own protest with a groan when Kurt pushes his thumb against the swollen rounding between his hole and his sack, cries out softly when Kurt massages a little circle over it. “Why does that--” Blaine’s eyes are closed and he’s sweating and frowning a little with the pleasure, “Why does that feel so good?”

~*~

It’s incredible, Kurt realizes. Here he can show Blaine _anything_ , everything it has taken him years and lovers to discover, ways to feel good he’d never even dreamed of when he was that young. Kurt swallows down his own rising need to come, and lets the other need flood him.

“Kurt I- I’m--” Blaine looks away and puts his hand over Kurt’s, stilling its motions. He looks almost ashamed. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”

It’s the shame that does it, that almost kills him and wrenches Kurt’s heart. Blaine is resplendent in his youth, spread out and trembling and _his_.

“Don’t be ashamed.” Kurt rises from his knees and kisses him as tenderly as he can; drapes his arms around Blaine’s shoulders to pull him into a hug. “Come here. Breathe. Enjoy this, I want to make you feel good.” Kurt hoists his legs around his waist and lifts him easily. Blaine’s arms tighten and his legs curl around Kurt. He lets go when they reach the edge of the bed, bounces a little and starts to fumble at Kurt’s belt buckle.

“Mmmm,” Kurt slaps them away playfully. “Not yet. Lay back. Get comfortable.”

Blaine’s eyes are wide and watchful, unsure when he does. Embarrassed when Kurt pulls his legs apart again, settles between them. “Take that small pillow,” he points absently at a decorative pillow next to Blaine’s head, “and put it under your hips.”

“Kurt, I don’t--” Blaine starts to sit, alarm tinging his voice.

“It’s okay.” Kurt rises over him, does his best to kiss the fear out of Blaine’s voice. “Trust me. You said you trust me, right?” He’s manipulating Blaine now, trusting that Blaine will know if he really needs to stop.

“I really don’t--” Blaine looks genuinely distressed.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Kurt reads his turmoil. “I promise. I just want to show you.” He bites at Blaine’s lips. “Show you how good you can feel.”

“O-oh, um. Okay.”

~*~

Kurt doesn’t start slow then, just settles back between his thighs, works his lips over his balls and down lower and Blaine can’t help the way he tenses. He’s never thought about this, really. Not in a context that involved him, not outside of porn. Blaine’s gotten off to plenty of porn, but most of what he’s seen always felt detached from him, from the idea of real situations.

But this is definitely real, and almost more than he can handle. The first lick, Kurt’s tongue so hot and startling over his asshole makes him jump, flush so hard with embarrassment.

“No, no no, Kurt--”

“Blaine.” Kurt’s voice is rough, thumbs digging in when he pushes his ass cheeks apart, “Honey. Stop. We both know you want this. Don’t play games with me.”

He groans then, so broken because it’s true. This _is_ what he wanted, even when he’s shaking and terrified and so far beyond where he ever imagined they might go. When Kurt seals his mouth over him and sucks hard, it feels just too good and Blaine doesn’t want to say stop, even though his mind is reeling.

“Blaine.” Kurt pulls back. His chin shines with saliva and his eyes, god his eyes are so dark, storm blue and blown out. “I want to do this. Let me, please. Let go.” He nudges Blaine’s dick. He’s so hard it hurts, throbbing a deep red that’s almost purple just at the top.

“Okay.” He tries, then, to ignore the steady stream of agonizing self-consciousness. What if he’s not clean enough? What if this really disgusts Kurt after all? What if--

Kurt’s tongue is suddenly _there,_ pointed and hard and just barely breaching the tight pucker of his hole and then he _can’t think_ , can’t think beyond the steady pressure of Kurt’s thumb, tucked up against his perineum again. Kurt’s massaging it, slow and steady, taking turns licking and sucking and it’s like sparks of fire, so many pleasure messages he’s utterly consumed.

He can’t help himself then, mind giving over to his body without consent. Later he’ll remember how loud he was. The way Kurt’s hair felt when he gripped it, pulling him closer while rolling and roiling through the pleasure.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please,” he gasps out, almost voiceless in his need. Kurt’s finger slips a little; everything is so wet and hot and he can feel how slick with spit he is.

“Oh god, do that again.” He’s almost crying, feels the way Kurt’s tongue and finger take turns now, just barely breaching his hole. It’s almost too much and not enough at the same time and for a moment he wants it. Wants Kurt inside him, wants to feel Kurt fucking him so hard into the mattress that it hurts.

And it’s then, with one last hard press of Kurt’s thumb that he comes, untouched, crying out spreading his legs as wide as he can and pressing, pressing Kurt’s face against him, rocking through pulses of pleasure as long as he can.

~*~

In the aftermath, once he’s wiped his face and slid to a sitting position, he can take everything in. And Blaine, god sweet Blaine has never looked more beautiful as he does then. He’s wrecked, fucked out and spread, covered in come and gasping relentlessly. His eyes are closed and his hair is a _mess_. Everywhere his body shimmers in the low lamplight, flushed pink and sheened with sweat.

Bolting through him then is the urge for even more. He could do anything, now, anything he wants to this boy. Knows that Blaine in this moment would give him consent to everything. And god, Kurt wants it.

But more than that, he needs to know that Blaine is _really_ ready, and some things just aren’t on the table. Not for him or for Blaine, it wouldn’t be right.

Blaine opens his eyes; it hurts a little, the stunned adoration deep in them. It hurts because he feels it too, feels so much like something like love in his chest. But it’s not the right time to tell. Kurt can only hope that he’s shown, through the worship he felt and tried to give Blaine’s body, what the words they don’t say mean.

Blaine’s hands reach out then, trembling still, and Kurt leans to take them, threads their fingers together and reaches them up above Blaine’s head. Kisses him softly at first, waits for Blaine to come around enough to sink into the kiss. Lets Blaine own it for a few moments, licking into his mouth dirty and hard, biting and sucking his lips until Kurt is rocking against him. His cock slips against his stomach, slides through tacky come that’s still spread all over him.

“Is it your turn yet?” Blaine’s voice is sleepy and drawn, molasses spreading slow and easy.

“Yes.” Kurt moves to straddle his waist, nudges past Blaine’s propped up knees. “Here.” He encourages Blaine’s hands to wrap under the edge of his headboard, then runs his palms down, testing the shape and texture of the undersides of his biceps, through the fine hair of his armpits. Up the ridges of his pecs until his thumbs meet at the hollow of his throat.

“I’ll need you to stay still. Let me to the work.”

“What are you--” Blaine closes his eyes and bites back a whimper when Kurt starts to work his knees up until they’re tucked under his arms a little.

“Blaine,” Kurt grips himself firmly. Takes the head of his cock, wet with drops of precome, and rubs it gently over Blaine’s slightly parted lips. Smears his precome over those lips. “Open for me sweetheart.”

Blaine does, eyes uncertain. Kurt knows it’s because he wants to do well. Blaine wants to please so much, everyone in his life. Kurt can only hope that the pleasure he’s given him is more than enough to make sure Blaine knows he’s so worthy of receiving it as well.

“There you go.” Kurt breathes out, kneels up even more. Fluffs the pillow under Blaine’s head to help get him to the right angle. Shallow and slow, he fucks into Blaine’s mouth, gasping because finally, _finally_ some relief. Blaine is working what he can too, suckling when Kurt sinks in, trying to lick around his head.

“You like that?” Blaine nods carefully. Kurt stops his gentle thrusting, lets Blaine use his tongue to explore, running over the ridge and frenulum. Working his slit a little and moaning the whole time. “Oh god Blaine-” He’s thrusting again now, working himself a little deeper with each thrust. “You were born for this. So good already.”

Blaine’s eye lashes flutter shut a little, basking in the praise.

“Breath slowly.” Kurt takes himself in hand a little harder, drives slowly in, farther and farther. Tests Blaine’s limits, murmuring encouragement and praise even through the near blackout pleasure. It’s not just Blaine’s mouth and lips, which while inexperienced, feel so good. It’s the teaching. Breaking him in and guiding him in this art of giving pleasure to someone else.

Kurt slips in until he can feel the tensing of Blaine’s body, drawing back before he can gag. Does it again, getting a rhythm and sense of what Blaine can take.

“Wonderful, beautiful,” he whispers between his own moans. Kurt tries to keep his eyes open, to watch Blaine transforming before his eyes. He can feel everything, the tucked away need and the desperate suction of Blaine’s mouth, and it’s cascading through him.

“Gonna come,” he breaks out, voice almost graveled, “Gonna come in your sweet mouth, _oh god Blaine._ ” He pumps faster, and everything is so hot, his skin bright glowing and his muscles bunching and he’s sweating and grinding. The hand he’s been using to prop himself in Blaine’s hair, fingers soothing the sweat gathering at his hairline and pulling at his ever loosening curls.

Kurt moans unbridled then, everything pulsing through him until he has to close his eyes. Feels himself start to spurt into Blaine’s mouth, over his lips and down his chin when he pulls out, mindful not to choke him. He’s still not done though, slips his dick back in to draw out a few more licks of pleasure until he’s shaking too hard to hold himself up any longer.

~*~

It’s quiet for a long time then. Other than their gasps, they don’t speak. Blaine shivers a little, skin cooling when the air draws at him, gooseprickling where Kurt’s body had been. The only point of contact between their bodies are their hands, held tightly between them.

Blaine feels almost as if he’s in his own pocket of solitude, but it’s not a lonely feeling. It’s the aftermath of pleasure and self realization. A sacred place of transformation and he’s so grateful. Grateful to Kurt for bringing him here, thankful that Kurt knows to let him linger in it.

“Is it weird,” he breaks the silence carefully, “to feel so much stronger now?”

Kurt rolls onto his side, beautifully stretched naked, incandescent with pleasure. He trails his fingers over Blaine’s chest. “Stronger how?”

“I don’t know if I can explain it.” Blaine closes his eyes and wets his lips. “I’ve felt so alone for so long, and you make me feel like I’m not. And I love that.” I love you, he tries to make his eyes say. “But this, all of this-” his hand is still trembling when he waves it, “it was scary, and I didn’t know if I could go through it, but I did. I wanted to even though I wasn’t sure and that makes me feel good.”

“Yeah?” Kurt’s eyes are desperately soft on his, fingers almost catching the hint of stubble on his cheek.

“I guess I’ve always worried, deep down, that I’m not strong enough for some things. When I’m afraid.”

“You are.” He opens his lips to accept Kurt’s kiss. “And it has nothing to do with me. It’s _you.”_

“I know that now.” Blaine smiles, curls his hand around the edges of Kurt’s ribs. “Because you helped show me. Showed me a lot of things,” he teases, wants to lighten the mood suddenly. Not because he’s uncomfortable, but because he feels almost unbearably light.

“Mmm, yeah.” Kurt’s eyes are lush, green rimmed and bright.

“I hope there’s more.”

“More what,” he murmurs between kisses along Blaine’s neck.

“More to show me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Kurt leans back, smile wicked. Blaine loves that, loves the pet names that make him feel young and cared for. “There’s so much more to come.”


End file.
